"I will not keep you waiting long, my dear," she said, and, without further explanation, followed her confidential attendant into the house. In about half an hour she returned, accompanied by a bald-headed, yellow-faced personage, who, somewhat to the surprise of Agnes, mounted the carriage after her, and placed himself as _bodkin_ between them. "To the Bank," was the word of command then given, and in a moment they again stopped, and Agnes was once more left alone. The interval during which she was thus left was this time considerably longer than the last, and she had long been tired of watching the goers and comers, all bearing, however varied their physiognomy, the same general stamp of busy, anxious interest upon their brows, before the active old lady and her bald-headed acquaintance re-appeared. The old gentleman handed her into the carriage, and then took his leave amidst a multitude of obsequious bows, and assurances that her commands should always be obeyed at the shortest notice, _et cetera, et cetera, et cetera_. "Agnes!..." said the old lady, as soon as she had exchanged a few words with William as to where she next wished to go, "Agnes! I look to you to supply the place of my bees and my flowers, and I do not much fear that I shall lament the exchange; but you must not continue to be dight in this grim fashion; it might be soothing to the feelings of Mr. Barnaby's fond widow, but to me it is very sad and disagreeable.... And so, my dear, here is wherewithal to change it." During the whole of this speech Miss Compton had been employed in extracting a pocket-book of very masculine dimensions from her pocket; and having at length succeeded, she opened it, drew forth two bank-notes of twenty-five pounds each, and laid them in the lap of her niece. Agnes took them up, and looked at them with unfeigned astonishment. "My dear aunt," she said, "I am afraid you will find me a much younger and more ignorant sort of girl than you expected.... I shall no more know what to do with all this money than a child of five years old. You forget, aunt Betsy, that I never have had any money of my own since I was born, and I really do not understand anything about it." "This is a trouble of a new and peculiar kind, my dear, and I really don't remember, in all my reading, to have found a precedent for it.... What shall we do, Agnes?... Must you always wear this rusty-looking black gown, because you don't know how to buy another?"